


An Empty Vessel Warms No Heart

by Rirren



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, M/M, Necrophilia, Nonnies Made Me Do It, Resurrection, Temporary Character Death, Unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-17 21:18:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17568104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rirren/pseuds/Rirren
Summary: Nico will do anything to save Percy. Even Percy being dead won't stop him.





	An Empty Vessel Warms No Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt 'post-mortem appreciation'.

Nico stepped out of the shadows into the empty motel room and let the body drop from his numb hands. He stumbled to the windows and closed the curtains before turning on the bedside lamp. It was 3 am here—hopefully anyone who might notice the glow of light from the locked room would be fast asleep by now.

He dragged his eyes to the body. It was sickeningly empty inside, a black hole of nothingness. He could sense Percy's soul miles underground wandering the mists. He hadn't reached the River Styx yet. Nico still had time.

His godly father had told him about this ritual after a very frantic Iris call from Nico. Hades had never been much of a fan of Percy, so the fact he'd chosen to help Nico was … unexpected. Maybe even suspicious. But it was the best option Nico had right now.

He looped his arms around Percy's body and started to drag it towards the bathroom. Limp hands dangled, brushing against the cheap carpet. He propped it up against the wall and started to undress it. Percy's head was bowed, dark hair covering its expression. He didn't know if it would be peaceful or pained. He'd only seen the aftermath—Percy lying face down on the ground—when he'd immediately shadow traveled there upon feeling Percy's soul leave his body. He'd run in, grabbed the body, and got out of there without even thinking. He had no idea if the others, occupied with putting down the giant scorpion, had even noticed his presence.

Percy's skin under his T-shirt was paler than he'd ever seen it, as white as the cold marble of a tombstone. Dark red lines spread out from the heart, making a delicate star burst pattern. Nico traced them with his fingers, eyes scanning the multiple cuts marring the skin. Poison.

Frustration gripped him then—that Percy had died from a simple monster, that Nico hadn't been there—but he shoved it back down; he didn't have the time for emotional outbursts. He quickly moved down to the pants, tugging them and the boxers off in one go.

He put a hand out to stop the body from falling over, deliberately keeping his gaze at eye level, then pulled it over to the bathtub. He paused for several seconds as he tried to figure out his next move, before he got his arms under the knees and back and lifted it enough to get it in the bathtub.

He settled it in a sitting position and knelt on the bathroom rug. He sprayed the whole body down with warm water until the water ran clear, and squeezed out some shampoo. He rubbed it into Percy's hair, his eyes unfocusing until all he could see was a blur. He rushed through the rest of the washing. His chest felt tight, and there was something sitting at the back of his throat that wouldn't go away, no matter how many times he swallowed.

He checked back in on Percy's soul when he was rubbing the body dry with the scratchy motel towel.

He hadn't gotten any closer to the River Styx. In fact, although Nico couldn't tell exact locations, he wasn't sure if he had moved at all since he'd last checked. His hands slowed in their motions. That wasn't normal. He didn't think Percy was the type to just refuse to move on, but why else would he have stopped?

He couldn't quite connect it all together—his mind struggling through some kind of fuzz that had swallowed him since he'd first seen Percy lying so still. What did it matter anyway? He didn't have the luxury right now to look a gift horse in the mouth. He'd told his father he would do anything to save Percy and he'd meant it.

He pulled Percy's body to him in a mockery of a hug, damp arms draping over his shoulders and a cold nose pressed into his neck. He swallowed nervously. He'd never gotten this close to Percy before; it was somehow fitting that this happened to him only after death.

He stood up, almost buckling under the weight, and staggered out into the bedroom. His hands started to slip and he tried to lower the body onto the bed, before overbalancing and falling over on top of it.

He pushed himself up, his heart skipping a sickening beat, and then he froze, eyes locked with a still face.

It—he— _Percy_ looked like he was sleeping, his eyes closed and his mouth slightly parted. The lamp cast a warm orange glow on his face, making him look like he was still alive. A lock of damp hair lay over his eyes and Nico brushed it back, fingers lingering on the shell of his ear.

His warm breath puffed out into the air between them as he traced the features of Percy's face, still as strikingly beautiful as he'd always been—an intimate sight just for Nico. Blood pounded in his ears like a drum, and he touched the pads of his fingers to Percy's eyelids, feeling the delicate brush of eyelashes underneath. He dragged his hand down to Percy's mouth, colored with the faintest tinge of blue. His thumb pulled at the lower lip, and then before he knew what he was doing, he'd darted forward and pressed a kiss to that mouth.

He pushed himself back a second later, stumbling back from the bed, his hand to his mouth. He could still feel the soft cool flesh under his lips, dry and tasting somehow metallic. Percy's body lay indifferent and unmoving on the bed, his arms and legs spread akimbo. A hysterical laugh threatened to escape Nico and he swallowed it back down.

He stepped forward, and pulled Percy's arms down, pushed his legs together, tried to arrange him in a more dignified position. He knelt on the bed and, taking a knife from his belt, pricked the pad of his index finger. He smeared the blood on Percy's eyelids and lips, then stuck the finger into his mouth. He sucked on it while he wriggled out of his clothes and took out the tube of lubricant he'd taken from Percy's home less than an hour ago.

Only one part of the ritual remained now.

He crawled over nervously, squirted the lube onto his fingers. He didn't even really know what he was doing. Probably Percy had some experience, but then, if Percy was actually here he wouldn't want to help Nico. He'd probably punch him, call him disgusting, and never want to see him again. He would probably rather die than go through with this. That was partly why Nico hadn't tried to ask him. And because of what conclusions Percy might reach about Nico if he knew Nico was willing to do this. At least this way he'd have a chance to run before Percy realized what was going on.

He eyed the body, eyes skittering over Percy's dick like he was going to get in trouble for looking. Not surprisingly, it was soft. And you couldn't put it in like that … at least he thought so? It wouldn't work like that anyway: Hades had said it was his essence—the essence of all children of Hades—that had this power.

So despite the fantasies he'd had of doing it the other way around, it was going to have to be him that fucked Percy.

He parted Percy's legs and pressed one finger in. It went in easily, all the way to the last knuckle. It felt cold and clammy inside, nothing like he'd imagined. He pulled his finger out, squirted more lube on, and pressed it in again.

He didn't even really know why he was doing this, except that it was something you should do normally. It had hurt when he'd tried it on himself without something to ease the way. That didn't really apply in this case though.

He stopped and squeezed some more lube out on his hand, then wrapped his palm around himself. He closed his eyes, held himself in a slick grip, and started to jack himself off. He wasn't hard yet, but he could almost imagine Percy's thigh felt warm under his hand, that Percy was lying there waiting for him. His dick started to stiffen.

It was almost too painful to think of Percy being loving, even willing, because he wouldn't, he would _hate_ Nico—but if he didn't, if he imagined Percy watching him under half-closed eyelids, a reassuring tilt to his lips, his soft voice— _Hey, Nico, it's okay. I'll look after you_ —and his hands touching Nico there—

He bit his lip, a sound escaping him.

He opened his eyes, panting, and let go. The body was as still as ever. He wanted to see Percy breathe, his chest rising and falling, so badly.

He shuffled forward and pulled Percy's body up onto his thighs, limp legs parted around his hips. He held his cock and pressed it in.

There was no resistance—nothing to stop him from pulling Percy's body in by the waist until he was all the way in. Normal sex probably wasn't anything like this—not as cold or slack—but it still made something sharp and hot burst inside him, a kind of nauseating excitement filling him.

He started to thrust in and out, keeping his grip on Percy's hips to hold the body in place. He had to keep swallowing down little moans, still unable let himself go. The room was completely silent except for his harsh breaths and the slick sound of bodies slapping together. He thought maybe Percy's body was getting a little warmer … maybe it was just his imagination.

His mind searched for Percy's soul, latched onto it until it felt like he was holding onto Percy instead of just meat. He was getting close. He reached out and grabbed Percy's hand, laced stiff fingers with his. Pleasure was sparking through his body, sharper and realer than anything he'd felt before, and he thought he'd die from it, expire from the heated ecstasy and join Percy.

Everything squeezed tight inside him and he gasped, grinding in deep, hips jerking as he came.

He panted, the peaking pleasure falling, washing out of him like the tide. He lifted his head—Percy's body lay still before him. His heart clenched—he felt like he was going to throw up—and then the body convulsed, clamping around him.

He jerked back, almost falling off the bed. The body flailed on the bed like a worm. Its jaw opened wide and then a hoarse sound tore from it as it sucked in air. It breathed like it was underwater—gasping and choking and coughing.

Nico crawled back until his feet touched the floor. He watched, hands gripping the mattress so hard he could feel his bones creaking. The body curled up and panted, pulling its trembling hands close to its chest.

He could feel it now—that indescribable sense of life, of not being alone anymore. Disbelieving elation filled him, threatened to leak out of him, stinging his eyes. He reached out blindly for his clothes and gathered them to him. He watched Percy breathe for a few more seconds, then stepped back, reached for the shadows and left.

Or tried to. Pain burst through him as something tugged, stretching him so thin he thought he'd tear in half, and he staggered, falling to the floor. There was a startled sound from Percy, but he didn't look. He clutched his stomach. Under his hands he could feel an invisible, intangible _something_ that hadn't been there before.

A bond—stretching between him and Percy, tying them together.


End file.
